Ghost Hold

by Ripley Patton

  “Well, we met her,” I said. “Or, it’s probably more accurate to say she met us. She was waiting for us.”

  “What do you mean she was waiting for you?” he asked, his voice low and still.

  I looked at Passion for some help, but her eyes said it all. She wanted me to tell this story. “Samantha James has a power,” I explained. “She can hear PSS.”

  “But you had the dog tags,” Marcus said, making that leap of logic much more quickly than I had. “I mean, couldn’t that block someone who could hear PSS?” He didn’t even seem surprised that Samantha had a power. Then again, it was one more piece of evidence to support his CAMFer list theory, so maybe he’d been expecting it.

  “Apparently, it can,” I said, taking a deep breath, “because Samantha didn’t hear me. She heard Passion.”

  “She heard Passion?” Marcus repeated, slowly turning his eyes to her, scanning her body almost like Samantha had, as if he would see it now—something he’d missed all these weeks.

  Passion held out her arms, almost in surrender. “It’s my blood,” she said. “Only the white cells and plasma. My red cells are normal. At least, that’s what they told us.”

  “Who told you?” Marcus’s voice sounded dangerous.

  “It was just Samantha and some of her friends,” I said, wanting to protect Passion from that voice. “They tested it in the chemistry lab at school.”

  “You let Samantha and her friends test Passion’s PSS in the school chemistry lab?” He was repeating us again. That was not a good sign. “Was it in front of the entire class? Did you announce it over the intercom and call for a pep rally? Who the fuck now knows that Passion has PSS? And why the hell didn’t I?”

  His tone was pissing me off. We’d done the best we could. “Mr. James knows too,” I said. “We sort of accidentally met him and Samantha told him everything.”

  Marcus stopped in his tracks, staring at us both, his face paler than I’d ever seen it. “You met Alexander James?” he asked, his voice tight, his fists clenched.

  “He was really nice to us,” Passion said, but it was completely the wrong thing to say.

  “Nice to you?” Marcus laughed, but it was not happy laughter. “Alex James was nice to you? Do you have any idea what kind of danger you were in?” he said, looming over Passion. “What kind of danger you’ve put all of us in? You were supposed to bring Samantha James back here, not surrender yourself into the hands of her father and give him a sample of your PSS.”

  “Hey, we did the best we could,” I said, standing up and looming right back at him. “Samantha was all over us the minute we stepped into that school. And despite several major glitches in the plan, we managed to do exactly what you asked us to. We showed her some PSS, and we got into her inner circle. She and Passion are practically best friends now, and we’re all invited to her house for dinner tomorrow, you included, so back the hell off because it’s been a very long day.”

  He backed up a little and stared at us. “He invited you to dinner?” he asked, sounding very confused.

  “He invited you too, because our parents are out of town. And that was pretty nice of him considering we’d just been caught breaking into his private art collection.”

  “He keeps his art collection at the high school?” Marcus asked, confused.

  “No, that was at Samantha’s house after we skipped out of school,” Passion offered. “She broke us in, and showed us all this amazing PSS art, and told us all about her spiritual beliefs, and that’s when we found Olivia’s painting.”

  “He has The Other Olivia in his art collection,” I told Marcus. “I thought mine was the only one, but it isn’t. My dad sold the original to Alexander James when I was four. But they don’t call it The Other Olivia. They’ve given it the title Kaylee Pas Nova. It’s their most valuable religious icon.”

  Marcus stared at us, his eyes shifting from Passion to me and back again. “You did all that, found out all that, in half a day?” he asked, his expression looking almost like he was afraid of us.

  “Yes, we did,” I said somewhat smugly, sitting back down next to Passion.

  “I don’t even know what to say.” He sagged into the chair across from us.

  “Um, good job. Or thank you very much, would be nice,” I said.

  “Good job,” he said softly, his eyes still looking a little glazed over with shock.

  “Marcus,” I said. “Why would they title my father’s painting the same name the CAMFers have last on their list?”

  “Kaylee Pas Nova is on the CAMFers’ list?” Passion asked, leaning forward with astonishment.

  “Not spelled like that,” I explained. “The pas and the nova are run together. But it has to be the same thing. It can’t be a coincidence. That combination of words isn’t exactly common.”

  “No, it’s not,” Marcus said, and I could see the gears of his mind turning, making connections. “Maybe it isn’t a name on the list. Maybe it never was. What if it’s been the painting all along?”

  “Why would the CAMFers want a painting by my dad?” I asked. “They can’t extract PSS from it, and they don’t exactly strike me as the artistic types.”

  “The CAMFers hate The Hold, and vice versa,” Marcus said. “They’ve been at war almost as long as they’ve existed. It makes sense that the CAMFers would want to get their hands on The Hold’s most valuable possession.”

  “The Hold?” Passion asked, looking confused.

  “It’s the name for the cult Samantha belongs to,” I explained. “They worships PSS.”

  “‘Cult’ is just a term people use when they don’t believe something,” Passion said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Marcus raised his eyebrows at that declaration and turned back to me. “If Kaylee Pasnova is your father’s painting, then we already have the last thing on the list.”

  “Holy shit,” I said, shock running through my body. “It was right under their noses in Greenfield and they almost destroyed it. But they wouldn’t have known that, would they? The CAMFers don’t know that The Other Olivia is the same painting as Kaylee Pas Nova. There are no public pictures or records of either one of them.”

  “If they have an agent in The Hold, they know,” Marcus said. “Someone who’s seen the original.”

  “You mean like a double agent?” I asked.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me,” he said. “Maybe Dr. Fineman wasn’t dating your mother just to get to you.”

  “Oh my God.” The CAMFers hadn’t only been after me. They’d been after The Other Olivia as well. Their double agent would have known my father’s name, the painter of Kaylee Pas Nova, which would have led straight to me, my mother, and a completely unprotected version of The Hold’s precious icon. But Mike Palmer must not have known the painting was important, or he never would have burned down my house—a fact that had really pissed off Dr. Fineman.

  Now, the only one who knew The Other Olivia still existed, other than us, was Mike Palmer, and he didn’t even know what he knew. Which meant if the CAMFers wanted to complete their list, they’d have to go for the original painting. “They’re not only after Samantha,” I said, looking at Marcus. “They’re coming for Kaylee Pas Nova too. But that painting is alarmed and guarded like the Mona Lisa. They’re never going to get it out of there.”

  “If they have a double agent they could,” Marcus said, chewing his lip worriedly. “You two need to be more cautious than ever.” He glanced down at my gloved hands. “If they don’t know you have PSS, let’s keep it that way. Fly under the radar as much as you can. They’ll be less cautious around someone they don’t consider an equal.” He turned his gaze to Passion. “And I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said to her. “What you both accomplished today is amazing. It just caught me off guard. Now, if you could take me through it a little slower, I promise not to freak out.”

  Then we told him the extended version, Passion and I taking turns filling in the details about Samantha, her friends, the reveal of Pas
sion’s PSS, how I’d managed to keep my ghost hand off the radar, and what we’d seen in Alexander James’s art gallery, all the way through to a detailed word-for-word account of our interactions with Mr. James himself, which seemed to interest Marcus most of all.

  But neither of us mentioned the connection we both knew was forming between Samantha and Passion. I didn’t feel like that was my place to tell, and Passion seemed to want to keep it secret a bit longer.

  At the end of our explanation, Marcus turned to Passion and said, “I get it now. I know what it’s like to be confused about your PSS—to have it manifest in a way that no one’s ever heard of, like you’re a freak among the freaks.”

  Was that how he felt about his incredible chest?

  “It’s okay,” Passion said. “I should have told you, or at least asked you. I have a habit of keeping things to myself.”

  “Yeah,” Marcus said, nodding at her. “I think I can relate.”

  20

  DAY TWO AT EDGEMONT HIGH

  Tuesday, our second day at Edgemont, Passion and I had to navigate new classes, the huge campus, and our fellow students but, with Samantha at our side, we didn’t really have any issues. The teachers and staff treated us like royalty by association. Samantha’s friends welcomed Passion into the fold, with me as her accessory, and the other students seemed to view us with either awe or envy, or both.

  At the end of the day, I found myself in Honors English, the same class I’d had last period at Greenfield High. We were supposed to be discussing Shakespeare’s sonnets in small groups, but I was thinking about Kaylee Pas Nova and The Other Olivia and the fact that Marcus had been quiet and aloof ever since Passion and I had come home from the James’ house yesterday. All last night and this morning, I could feel him retreating away from me into his own head. He was holding something back and that was scaring the shit out of me, because the last time he’d done that, he’d given himself up to the CAMFers for my best friend and we’d all almost died.

  “Too bad your brother can’t come tonight,” Dimitri interrupted my thoughts, leaning across his desk toward me. “We need more guys.” He nodded at the whispering and giggling group behind us, comprised of Samantha, Passion, Lily, Eva, and Juliana. Somehow, I’d gotten stuck in a group with Renzo and Dimitri.

  “He wanted to come,” I said, “but he was puking his guts out all night.” The lie came easily. What didn’t come so easily was the realization that I’d already been relegated to the status of “one of the guys” in Samantha’s group. It had taken Renzo and Dimitri exactly one day to stop thinking of me as a girl. Perhaps this was my true superpower. Still, at least Samantha wasn’t treating me like I was invisible anymore. I didn’t have Passion’s status of course. I was obviously ranked below the others in the group, but it was better than nothing. At least she hadn’t tried to exclude me from the dinner party. And apparently the whole gang was invited, not just Passion and I.

  “Some bug has been going around,” Renzo said. “I had it last week.” He had his sunglasses on. He rarely took them off, and I understood why. A PSS hand or ear were easy to look away from, but eye contact was conditioned into human beings from the moment we were born. After all, eyes are the windows to the soul. But Renzo had a bit too much soul in his eye. Plus, whenever I saw that blue milky orb, I couldn’t help wondering what kind of beautiful music a PSS eyeball made.

  I glanced at Dimitri, trying not to be too obvious. Where was his PSS? And what about the girls? I looked over my shoulder at the giggling group. Juliana always wore this cool pinky ring on her left hand. It was made of silver, and it was jointed, encasing her entire little finger like armor. It wasn’t rocket science to conclude that she had PSS of the pinky. But I didn’t see anything on Eva or Lily that gave theirs away. What I did notice is that Lily had stopped giggling with the rest of them. She looked pale and she was holding her hand up to her mouth.

  Suddenly, she leaned over and vomited directly across Passion’s desk and straight into her lap.

  “Oh God, I’m sorry,” Lily mumbled, jumping up and running from the room, while the rest of us tried to keep down our cookies.

  “Mrs. Menkey,” Samantha called, trying to help Passion get out of her desk without making it worse, but the haggard looking teacher was already handing out hall passes and dismissing the entire class thirty minutes early. It was the last period of the day. She was obviously tired of vomit and Shakespeare.

  We did manage to get Passion to the bathroom, where we could hear Lily still going strong in one of the stalls. Eva tried to help her, though there was little to do but hold her hair out of the way. Meanwhile, Juliana, Samantha and I wiped Passion off with paper towels, washed her shirt in the sink, swabbed down the front of her pants, and made her stand under the hand dryer in hopes the heat would kill some of the germs and the smell.

  When she was mostly clean, and Lily’s stomach was empty, Samantha offered to call one of her dad’s cars around to take Passion and me home, and we didn’t refuse.

  “But I’ll see you tonight at six, right?” she said.

  “We wouldn’t miss it,” Passion promised.

  The ride home was uneventful, and Marcus greeted us at the door of the McMansion again. I had barely seen Nose, Jason, or Yale since Sunday. They’d been on night duty a lot, so they slept most of the day.

  “What happened this time?” Marcus asked, looking at the wrinkled stain marks on the front of Passion’s clothes.

  “Someone threw up on her in English,” I said. “Apparently, our lie about you being sick was the perfect alibi. Some nasty flu bug is going around.”

  “I’m going to go get cleaned up,” Passion said, heading upstairs and leaving us in the foyer.

  “Listen,” Marcus said, taking my hand and leading me into the living room to sit down on one of the couches. “I’ve been thinking about this dinner tonight. Maybe this flu is a good alibi for all of us. I want you to call Samantha and tell her you can’t make it. Tell her you and Passion are sick too.”

  “What? No. We need to go. This is the key to solidifying ourselves in her group.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Marcus said adamantly. “We need to stick with the original plan to get Samantha here. I need to talk to her.”

  “And what in the world do you think you’re going to say to her?” I asked. “She’s pretty wrapped up in her happy little Hold. And if you want to talk to her so badly, why not come to dinner with us tonight and let her hear your chest? I bet she’d love to talk to you then. I mean, you showed it to those guys at the gun club. How is this any different?”

  “Because he will be there,” Marcus said, practically snarling.

  “You mean Alexander James? Yes, he’ll be there.” I shrugged. “But I really don’t see what the big deal is. I mean he’s smooth, but he seemed harmless enough when I met him.”

  “Harmless?” Marcus stood up and began to pace, his body coiled like an angry spring. He was pissed at me. I could tell. Pissed even more than he’d been the day before and that was saying something. “Yes, the man who drove my parents into an oncoming train and ruined my life forever is harmless. What was I thinking?”

  “Alexander James was the one who chased your parents down?” I stood up too, completely appalled. “Him specifically?”

  “Yes, him specifically.” Marcus glared at me. “So, you’ll forgive me if I have no desire to attend a dinner party hosted by the man who murdered my parents.”

  “Oh God, I’m sorry.” I crossed to him and took his hand. “I had no idea Alexander James was the leader of The Hold when you guys were in it?” Of course, it made sense. It just hadn’t occurred to me before.

  “He wasn’t the leader,” Marcus said, looking down at me, “but he was on his way.”

  “You knew him?” I tried to wrap my brain around it.

  “Yes.” Marcus nodded.

  “And you knew Samantha too? Were you friends?”

  “Sort of,” he said.

  “And that
’s why this entire plan revolves around Passion and me bringing Samantha to you?” An avalanche of understanding was thundering down on my head. “Because even if she hadn’t recognized you physically, she would have recognized you instantly by the sound of your PSS.”

  “Yes.” Marcus glanced away from me, unable to meet my eyes.

  Because he’d been lying to me this whole time.

  Again.

  I’d fallen for it again.

  “You knew about her power.” I pulled my hand from his. “And you knew the dog tags would block it. And you didn’t tell me?”

  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

  “What the fuck?” I stepped away from him and began pacing myself. “I don’t get it? You told me about The Hold, and your grandparents, and your mom. Why not this? Passion and I went in there and got completely blindsided.”

  “I had no idea Passion had PSS,” he protested. “And the very reason I gave you the tags was so you wouldn’t be blindsided. I wanted you to be able to observe, to be off Samantha’s radar until the timing was right and the two of you were alone.”

  “Fine,” I shot back. “Then tell me that. Don’t give me bullshit about the CAMFers and scare me into doing what you want. God, I thought we were past this. Why can’t you just tell me the truth for a change?”

  “I tell you the truth as much as I can,” he argued, anger tingeing his voice.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it,” I snapped at him. “You’re always holding something back. And I’ve tried to be patient about it, because I understand why. But haven’t I proven a thousand times over that you can trust me? That I would never use anything you tell me to hurt you?”

  “It’s not about hurting me,” he said, those eyes biting into me. “It’s about protecting you.”

  “Protecting me from what? I don’t need protection from the truth.”

  “Yes, you do.” He shook his head just like my mother did when she thought I was being naïve. “You don’t have a clue how sheltered your life has been, do you?”